


Strange games

by sixtieshairdo



Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:52:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtieshairdo/pseuds/sixtieshairdo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonny steps into a bar and notices someone blatantly check him out. He remembers this game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fishyz9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishyz9/gifts).



He scans the bar as he removes his leather jacket, wondering if this is something he  _really_  wants to do tonight. He feels reckless, and that’s not something he is used to feeling, being the by-the-textbook kind of guy that he is.  
  
 _Remember Europe?_  
  
He smiles a little to himself, fondly recalling the days of backpacking and trespassing unfamiliar boundaries. He flushes a little as he sits on the stool, ordering a beer, memories of heavy gyrations and nameless faces flicker through his mind like flipping pages of a dusty album. Perhaps, he has forgotten what being reckless feels like.  
  
Ever since he met…  
  
 _No, you’re not supposed to think of him tonight._  
  
He clears his head and takes a welcome sip of beer, wondering if the black V-neck shirt he wears is the right shade of  _please-take-me-home-and-fuck-me-good_  when he notices, from his peripheral vision, someone blatantly checking him out. He waits it out, knowing the way this works, before turning to look at the guy whose gaze doesn’t waver from caressing a line up and down his body. He feels something akin to a rush of blood to his head (no pun intended) at the unashamed desire coursing through the stranger’s blue eyes as their gazes meet.  
  
He turns back to his beer, making a show of playing hard to get; if Mr PecMan with the sunshine hair wants some Kiriakis loving tonight, he’d have to do a little more than just stare like a deer caught in headlights. He smiles when he senses someone slide into the seat next to him.  
  
“Are you new here? I’ve never seen you before.”  
  
He turns to the owner of the voice, surprised when he realizes that this guy is not Mr PecMan, but someone else.  He must have missed the fact that more than one person was checking him out.  
  
 _Barely 15 minutes in and I’m surrounded. Good to know that I still got it._  
  
He grins, white-teeth on perfect display, as he nods, giving the guy a once over. While Mr PecMan filled out his grey shirt with great finesse, this guy (let’s call him Mr Caramel-face because his complexion practically looked  _lickable_ ) is lean with angles all over, cheekbones so sharp they look like they could cut through glass.  
  
He knows that Mr PecMan is watching him but he chooses to give his attention to Mr Caramel-face for the moment, reading the signals right when the dark-haired stranger turns a little so his knee intentionally brushes against his thigh.  
  
“My name’s Josiah. You are?”  
  
He contemplates giving a fake name when he hears his name being exclaimed out of nowhere.  
  
“Sonny?  _Oh my God_ , is that you?”  
  
He whips his head around, startled by the shout which clearly has gotten everyone’s attention. Mr PecMan – no,  _Will_  – looks wild, something in his wide blue eyes showing panic clear as day.  
  
He doesn’t know how to respond, looking at Will stupidly, not sure what the protocol was at the moment. Will doesn’t seem to care that the bar has quietened down to watch his interaction, his arm reaching out and pulling him bodily into an embrace.  
  
“How long has it been since I last saw you, Sonny? How have you been? You must tell me everything! When did you get back from Dubai? Oh man, what a small world to see you here!”  
  
He suddenly understands that this is Will telling him that he is done for the night, that he wants to go home and stop this role-playing, that he cannot stand the fact that for two precious seconds, someone had tried to take his boyfriend away from him.  
  
He decides to play along in case Will begins to hyperventilate.  
  
“I came back last week actually.  I should have called you. Can I buy you a drink?”  
  
He notices Josiah’s annoyed expression as he gets up and leaves without a word.  
  
Will doesn’t seem to realize that there was no need to pretend like they didn’t know each other anymore and ploughs on, slightly frantic in his delivery and mannerisms.  
  
“Oh! I already had a drink. But I could do with dinner! There’s a diner somewhere nearby. Shall we?”  
  
He feels something inside him curl up like a really warm, happy cat. The fact that Will wanted to try this out, the fact that he is  _still_  playing out a role, makes Sonny all kinds of rapturous…and aroused.  
  
He walks to the door with Will close by – who is still muttering something about the diner’s menu – and grabbing their jackets, before exiting the bar.  
  
Once outside, he is surprised when Will pulls him aside, their bodies shadowed from the lights from the row of lampposts. He finds himself pressed against a wall, Will’s mouth hungry on his, a frustrated growl emerging from the depths of his very jealous boyfriend.  
  
He slides his hands up against Will’s neck, parting his lips wider to let Will’s tongue fuck his mouth with all the possessiveness in the world. Their jackets had fallen from his hands, Will’s erect cock straining against his own, their jeans providing delicious friction.  
  
Even through the heat of the moment, with Will’s hands kneading his ass, he hears Will speak muffled words against his lips, his neck, his ear.  
  
“I’m sorry, I can’t, I don’t like it when….You’re mine,  _God_ , Sonny you’re  _mine_.”  
  
He gasps out loud, more than a little flattered at Will’s visceral reaction to some random guy’s mini flirtation. He wants to soothe Will’s livewire nerves but the words died in his throat when he feels his zipper being undone, Will’s hand slipping in swiftly, pulling his cock out.  
  
He bites back a groan, grateful that they are alone and that no one has passed by the alley way, that cautious part of him nudging him to drag Will home rather than continue in what could potentially—  
  
His eyes roll back, the back of his head knocking against the hard wall, as Will’s hand pumps him with intention, a thumb rubbing over the slit of his cock. He bites his lip hard, willing away the need to moan expletives out loud, fully aware that Will’s watching him.  
  
Will’s breath is hot in his face, his whisper perceptibly loud in the empty darkness.  
  
“I love you. I  _fucking_  love you, Sonny.”  
  
He wraps his hand around Will’s neck, pressing their foreheads together, not daring to look down at Will’s possessive hand pumping him.  
  
“I love you too, Will. I love you with everything in me.”  
  
Will groans at that.  
  
“Sonny, you’ll be the death of me. I am  _this_  close to turning you around and fucking you right here.”  
  
He hears himself laugh, amazed at his own ability to even manage to remain standing through this delicious torture.  
  
“What’s stopping you?”  
  
Will’s eyes flashed at the challenge.  
  
“ _Logic_. But seeing you like this…it’s making me reconsider certain notions of safe sex.”  
  
In spite of the chaos in his brain, he feels warmth bloom through his chest at Will’s sincerity.  
  
Before he can speak again, he hears himself keen at the increasingly insistent hand around his cock, the obscene sounds reverberating like shameless echoes all around him. He feels Will marking him on his neck, his hand still dedicated to sliding up and down his erection, nearly blinding him with pleasure.  
  
He hears Will whisper out a command.  
  
“Come.”  
  
He obeys.


End file.
